


so many times we have seen the morning star

by redledgers



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Closure, F/M, Road Trip, Wings, but emotional softness?, fluff isn't quite the right word, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-29 19:20:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20087428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redledgers/pseuds/redledgers
Summary: She’s falling asleep against her seat, hair tousled from the drive, and with her profile rimmed in moonlight, he thinks she looks otherworldly. There’s no one on the road at this hour, not on the never-ending stretch of freeway that passes through the desert, at least.





	so many times we have seen the morning star

**Author's Note:**

> “How you must have suffered getting accustomed to me,  
my savage, solitary soul, my name that sends them all running.  
So many times we have seen the morning star burn, kissing our eyes,  
and over our heads the grey light unwinds in turning fans.”  
\- Pablo Neruda

She’s falling asleep against her seat, hair tousled from the drive, and with her profile rimmed in moonlight, he thinks she looks otherworldly. There’s no one on the road at this hour, not on the never-ending stretch of freeway that passes through the desert, at least.

_ Lucifer_, she’d mumbled when he nudged her awake, _ it’s two in the morning. _ But she’d gotten up anyway, pulled on clothes, and let him bundle her into the Corvette. Chloe doesn’t ask where they’re going, because it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Its funny how much she trusts him after all he’d done, but then he’d never lied to her, not really.

The road to Vegas is long and Lucifer has never believed in speed limits. He wants to think they’re going so he can make an honest woman out of her, but the truth is really to make an honest man out of him. To fix a bluff he never intended to make. The desert stretches out on both sides of them and he can see the cool blue of the sand, the craggy scrub, and the mountains that are just too far away to seem real.

About halfway there, he pulls off at one of the few exits, drives down a side road until he feels it’s far enough to stop. He doesn’t know how far away it is from anything; it’s not as if the light here obscures the sky, but it feels right. Chloe stirs, on the precipice of wakefulness, and he gently prods her shoulder to help tip her over the edge. Confusion flashes across her face but it melts into something akin to fondness when she catches sight of him. “Come on, Detective,” he says softly, getting out of the car. She follows shortly after, a little sluggish but always willing.

Lucifer lies on the hard sand, ignoring the dust that will cling to his suit and bury itself in his hair. Chloe squints down at him, a smile tugging at her lips, before she lies down beside him. “The middle of nowhere?” she says quietly, pressing her cheek against his shoulder. “This is what you wanted to show me at two in the morning?”

“Not quite.” In the stillness of the desert, he wants to hear the heartbeat of the Earth the way he used to in the beginning. But the sound of Chloe’s breathing is close enough, and he tangles his fingers with hers as they stare up at the sky. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her sharply focused on the silver pinpricks of light. He had shared them with the universe, but right now he wants only to share them with her. He would make them dance for her, if she asked. “Look,” he whispers, pointing with his free hand. It takes her a bit but she tracks his finger, catches sight of the winking light of a new star as it peeks through the curtain of velvet, rising as if to map the path of the sun that follows. His Morningstar.

She squeezes his hand and he feels his heart clench in time, this feeling unfamiliar still but not unwelcome. “That’s yours, isn’t it? They all are.”

He hums his answer and turns to look at her, finding that she has already traced the curve of his jaw with her eyes, already found the stars in his own. Delighted, he grins. Her fingers follow her gaze, and he catches her fingertips to press a kiss to them. She whispers _thank you, thank you, thank you, _her words catching in the sprawling sky and touching down in his heart. Together, they watch Venus track through the sky until the sun creeps up behind it, washing it out in orange and yellow. Only then does Lucifer stand, offering his hand to Chloe, who takes it with a smile. There’s dust on their clothes but he’s sure it will scatter into the wind as they drive, and he tugs her close, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her with the same intensity he had when he hung the stars, the reverence he had never bothered to give to prayer.

When he pulls back, she starts laughing, runs her hand through his hair and dislodges the sand that has clung to his curls. He wishes it were stardust. They help dust each other off as best they can. Chloe waits until they’re on the freeway to ask simply, “Home?”

He wants to tell her that he is home, in this moment and every moment, as long as she’s near. That home may be Los Angeles, but it is also right here. But she knows this, so he shakes his head. “Our weekend away, as promised.”

The signs say Las Vegas is 100 miles away and he catches sight of Chloe’s face when she reads it, like she’s not sure what to make of his choice of destination. He would tell her, if she asked. He’ll tell her anyway, when they’ve stopped at a diner for breakfast and coffee, because even this far out, he feels the tugging need for sleep, and he knows her well enough to know when she’s getting restless.

“I thought this would be a good place to start. A new beginning of sorts.” Because Vegas was a sore spot, even now. Because he wasn’t quite ready to whisk her away on some exotic vacation. Because there was someone he wanted her to meet. He fidgets with his coffee mug, not yet to the point of turning to his cufflinks. His mind is skittish.

Chloe’s hand is warm when she places it over his, stilling him. “Okay,” she says in that soft way, the one full of trust, the one she’s used for so long when she’s taking him at face value, when she’s not going to prod. She keeps her hand there as she finishes her breakfast and afterward he gives her the keys so he can sleep for the next hour, before they reach the city.

When he sleeps, he does not dream of flying. No, instead he sees her before him, back turned and wings spread in a display of the trust he has so recently given her in return. He buries his fingers in the oil-black feathers, tracing their edges. _ Raven’s wings, of course. _ A clever bird for a clever woman. He cards his fingers through each wing until they’re slick with oil and shining in the sunlight, glinting with iridescent purple.

She nudges him awake before he can see her grin, blinks into the sunlight that rises above the low Vegas skyline as they switch seats and he takes them the rest of the way. Her hand is warm on his and this is one of the few times he’s sure he’s doing the right thing. Lucifer doesn’t tell her about the dream until they’re clean and sated, curled in bed together. He trails his fingertips down her spine, splays his hand where they would be, and says, “You have raven wings.” 

Chloe huffs her confusion against his chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?” The next thing she feels is the brush of his wingtip against her thigh. “Oh.”

He aches for her to touch them again, but this is not the place, and so they’re folded away as quickly as they had appeared. She chases them, pressing her lips against his and dancing her fingertips across where his scars used to be. _ They were beautiful_, he tells her with his kiss. _ You were beautiful. You are beautiful. _

They have to be at Fletcher’s at seven, but it’s only ten, so he pulls her on top of him again. If he closes his eyes, he sees them spread out behind her, soft and dark, the tips dusted in the sand as if she had spent the early dawn watching his morning star. Chloe’s lips are gentle against the bridge of his nose, and his eyes flutter open. “Everything okay?” she asks softly.

In her concern and uncertainty, she’s breathtaking, like the first time a flower blooms. She worries her lip, already kiss swollen, and he surges up to meet her. “Yeah,” he says when his forehead is pressed against hers, catching his breath. “Yeah it’s perfect.”


End file.
